Add Pizza, Beer; Shake Well

GOING GA-GA The members of the band Spoon, from left, Britt Daniel, Rob Pope, Eric Harvey and Jim Eno, look at a billboard for the hot-dog eating contest at Coney Island.Credit
Angela Jimenez for The New York Times

Rebecca Milzoff:

IN the liner notes of its new record, “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga,” the rock band Spoon calls itself “faux punx/gentlemen dudes.”

A look at the foursome from Austin, Tex., standing on a Williamsburg corner on a recent Sunday night, ready at precisely 7:30 to catch a van to Coney Island, proved that at least half the description was right.

“We’re punctual,” said the frontman, Britt Daniel, 33, an indie gentleman of sorts in sunglasses, a fitted button-down shirt and tight black Wranglers. “I’ve been looking forward all day to going to Coney Island with my bros.”

After a day of rehearsing, it was a welcome moment of relaxation, and one of the first for Spoon in a long while.

“I don’t quite remember 2006,” said Mr. Daniel, who could be forgiven for the memory lapse. Since the 2005 release of Spoon’s fifth album, “Gimme Fiction,” the band has garnered praise for its taut, catchy piano and guitar rock. Its music has turned up in Jaguar commercials, the television show “Veronica Mars,” and the recent film “Stranger Than Fiction,” for which Mr. Daniel composed the score.

Last year was also memorable for Spoon because Mr. Daniel; the drummer, Jim Eno, 39; and the keyboardist, Eric Harvey, 33; were joined by a new bassist, Rob Pope, 29. It was then that, Mr. Daniel joked, “Rob and Eric started dating.”

“But we didn’t fall in love until ’07,” said Mr. Harvey, playing along.

On its New York visit, the band played at the River to River Festival in Battery Park City and on David Letterman’s show.

For now, pizza was first on the agenda. Upon arriving at the Coney Island pizza parlor Totonno’s, the band gamely posed for pictures with the staff. “They said we’re going to be on the wall,” Mr. Daniel said. “I love that. What an honor.”

Mr. Pope mentioned a possible next-day trip to the chic clothing store A.P.C., which Mr. Harvey described as a bourgeois French store. “That’s where we get our leotard pants,” Mr. Harvey joked.

Three pies and multiple Coronas later, band members were eager to try a boardwalk game called “Shoot the Freak,” in which a man in body armor runs around as spectators shoot him with paintball guns. “We brought our own guns, ’cause we’re from Texas,” Mr. Eno said in an exaggerated Southern accent.

After shooting and being heckled by an announcer who called them “a third-rate emo band,” they were ready to move on.

“Where’s the pony rides?” Mr. Harvey asked. He settled for the Cyclone, the rickety roller coaster he likened to “riding a really dangerous piece of furniture.” Afterward, Mr. Daniel tried a game that called for players to inflate balloons by shooting water guns at targets. He won easily, but handed his prize to a young competitor.

Mr. Harvey teased him: “Are you running for office or something?” Earlier, the band had discussed the benefits of having a politician in their ranks, and considered renaming Mr. Daniel “Britt Romney.”

On a whim, Mr. Pope boarded the TopSpin, which rotates passengers up, down and upside down. The rest of the band saluted him — and stayed behind. “It’s basically torture,” Mr. Daniel said. “A torture, have-your-body-thrown-around ride.” He and Mr. Eno pantomimed vomiting as they watched, but Mr. Pope emerged in one piece.